I didn’t like artist and writer Paul Pope’s work when I first encountered it.  There was something unfinished about his art, a slapdash approach that smacked of amateurishness to me.  But the more of his work I saw, the more I started to see what others found there: the kinetic vitality which he brings to a page, the sheer energy of his penwork, the raw feel of his comics.

Inevitably, I succumbed, and picked up some of his work.  More easily said than done, since some of his best work is hard to find: I’m still waiting for a collected edition of THB, an epic science fiction tale years in the making.  Fortunately, some of Pope’s comics are published by Vertigo, a DC imprint, meaning they’re available more widely than they have been.  Have a look here for an idea of Pope’s idiosyncratic approach to a medium that’s not nearly adventurous enough, and at his blog, which contains recent art samples and hints of things to come.

For DC, Pope did the sublime Batman: Year 100, a futuristic action thriller on paper that hits all the right notes.  It puts most comics bearing the title Batman to shame, an adrenaline rush from start to finish, with a brilliantly realised story that ain’t rocket science, but delivers on visceral thrills in a way that few comic creators can compete with.  The fact that he wrote as well as drew the story only emphasises his credentials as one of the medium’s leading creators…and that’s on a piece of work he did for a character he doesn’t own, and has no vested interest in.  What, then, is Pope’s creator-owned work like?

The best answer to that is to check out Heavy Liquid, a collected edition of which is available in a well-designed hardback.  As ever, Pope is at home in an urban environment, in this case a futuristic New York where his hero, S, is set the task of finding a missing artist, who a stranger wants to commission to create a sculpture from the weird substance of the title.  The cityscape is depicted with conviction: amazing that with so few lines Pope can conjure up the grime and noise of urban life, but that’s exactly what he does.

Having the story kick off with a carnival where people are dressed up outlandishly just adds to the sense that we ain’t home any more, Toto.  Pope’s New York is an extension of the man himself, a cultural hotchpotch where his bohemian cast dress with credible cool, and have believable hairstyles.  No wonder with this interest in couture and coiffure that Pope, who with his pout and barnet looks like a rockstar, has been commissioned to design clothes for DKNY.

Each chapter of the story, initially published individually, moves the story forward into another environment with new characters.  It would be formulaic but for the vibrancy of Pope’s imagination.  My favourite chapter for sheer brio involves a six year old girl with a pirate fixation and a swarm of pet robots, but for emotional conviction there’s the chapter where he catches up with the missing artist in a gorgeously depicted Paris and the past catches up with them both.

Paul Pope is undeniably one of the freshest voices to come through in comics in a long time.  His abundant creativity seemingly knows no bounds, and it’s still early days in terms of his overall career.  Whether he stays in comics is up for grabs, given the interest in his work by both fashion houses and filmmakers, but as long as he does his work will be worth paying attention to.  More than a breath of fresh air, Pope is a typhoon in terms of his energy, and his ability to harness it can only improve with time.  Watch this space.